


An Unforeseen Guest - A Thanksgiving Story

by Chris_Kaabye



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Irondad & Spiderson, Superfamily (Marvel), Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-08-29 21:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16752076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chris_Kaabye/pseuds/Chris_Kaabye
Summary: Peter has no idea how it happened, but the fact remains that he accidentally invited Tony Stark to Thanksgiving dinner.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by [ mystey-writes](https://mystey-writes.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. :)

The only time Peter can tolerate the drive from the Avengers facility in upstate New York into Manhattan is when he catches a ride with Tony. Normally he’d be sitting in a little car, the driver in front making small talk with him.

This was a day in which schedules aligned. Peter’s training session ended at seven o’clock, and Tony wanted to stay overnight in the city so he could attend an early morning meeting. It was the method of avoiding a 6 a.m wake-up, in turn saving everyone from his snippiness.

When Peter went on his first commute with Tony, he thought he enjoyed it because of the badass Audi they were in. Later he came to realize it was Tony’s presence that mattered most. These drives were about the only opportunities they got to talk one-on-one and face-to-face. Sure, Peter saw him at the facility, but there were normally others around, be it fellow Avengers or employees.

Peter’s actually pretty embarrassed about how much he likes these swaths of time with his mentor. That need for a father-like protector is in him, he knows that full well about himself, and he also knows it’s ridiculous. He’s not a child; he should be fine as his own person at this age.

Since Thanos, he has let Tony as far into his life as he could, just before the point where Tony would find it weird. Tony never hesitates to give him advice, and out of the Avengers, he’s most mindful of Peter, but Peter doubts he’d want to pick him up from school and go to a movie with him.

So far, today’s car-ride conversation has just been Peter talking about his day and Tony speculating when he’d have time to do maintenance on Peter’s suit. Tony goes off-topic once two cars directly in front force him to slow down.

“Are they stargazing or something? Not even Rogers drives this slow…” Tony mutters. “It would save so much time to suit up and fly over this place -- except I’m not allowed to do that.”

“Huh? Who says you’re not allowed?”

“This county has a safety board that’s not very pleased with me.”

Peter snorts. “Really?”

Tony lifts his hand off the steering wheel to make an airquote. “‘The sound created by the Iron Man suit disturbs the residents of Rockland county on a regular basis and counteracts recent noise reduction efforts.’”

“Hmm, fair enough, I guess?” Peter says.

“It gives me the excuse to be the tool that I am and show off all the cars I own,” Tony says smugly. “And I’ve got plans to buy another one in December.”

“What will you get?”

“Something Pepper likes. She’s taking forever to choose though. December’s coming up soon, I need to get on her about it.”

Peter takes note of the trees that can be seen through the window. They’re becoming brown and barren. “I can’t believe it’s November already…”

Tony nods in agreement.

Always curious about Tony’s life, Peter asks, “Are you doing anything for Thanksgiving?”

“Pepper’s family is coming over. It’s great because neither of us will have to do the heavy duty stuff for dinner. Her parents only trust us to cut the vegetables and they do everything else. We love it, it’s perfect.”

“Sweet,” Peter says, getting a quaint picture in his head of Tony’s domestic life. “Are you eating early? Me and my aunt do.”

“No, later in the day. Probably around 7 p.m.”

“Yeah, we’re much earlier. Three o’clock.”

“Okay, that works out then. I can swing by for a couple hours.”

Um.

What just happened?

Peter thinks Tony is making a joke. He looks at him. All Tony’s doing is staring the road down and steadying the steering wheel. Did Peter ask about Thanksgiving plans in a way he didn’t mean? He must have. It was taken as an invitation. Goddamn it, he really is a socially inept nerd, screwing up cues. Undoing this is going to be so awkward.

“Oh, I –-” he starts to say.

Tony talks right over him. “Pepper won’t mind,” he states, eyes on the traffic, oblivious to Peter’s concerned gaze. “Her family’s spending two nights with us so, honestly, I’ll probably need a bit of a break. Great parents and all, I love ‘em, but they’re mystified by all the tech at our place. I have to change television channels for them, help them with the microwave, all of that, so I go a little bonkers, you know?”

As he speaks, Peter figures he may as well roll with this. He’s not against having Tony over for dinner. It’s pretty exciting, to be honest, and Tony didn’t even skip a beat in agreeing to it.

“Cool, then that’s set,” Peter says. “Come over for three.”

“Your aunt’s totally okay with this? It’s not weird?”

Peter shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s fine with her,” he replies, though he doesn’t know this.

“Good. I can bring either wine or dessert. What’s better? Keep in mind you’re not having a drop of the wine.”

“Dessert. It’ll be one less thing for her to prepare.”

“All right, dessert it is. Make sure you tell her that’s my contribution.”

“Sure thing.”

Peter wonders how he’s going to explain this to Aunt May.

 

* * *

 

Peter knows there’s a good chance May won’t want Tony over for Thanksgiving. First off, she’s going to feel pressure to make the dinner extra fancy because, you know, it’s _Tony Stark_ you’re cooking for. Secondly, this is a get-together for family. May has a different view of Tony than Peter does, probably seeing him as an outsider who has little business being at their dinner table.

Once Peter explains that he accidentally invited Tony to their Thanksgiving, May bursts out laughing so hard she needs to support herself using the kitchen counter. Her reaction makes him flush with embarrassment but it’s better than being yelled at. Fortunately, she says she’s okay with the unexpected guest they’ll be having.

She’s confused though, as to how Tony ever agreed to coming. “Doesn’t he have family to spend time with? Any in-laws?” she asks.

Peter, quite deliberately, hasn’t been giving her many details about all the help Tony’s given him, man-to-man, not just mentor-mentee stuff. Peter feels he deserves privacy, first of all, but he’s also worried May would see right through him, sense the pitiful little daydreams he has of Tony doing things like fixing up his first car. Peter’s not even comfortable with those dreams himself.

So he provides a vague explanation. “Oh, well, he knows it’s just the two of us here. He’s nice that way.”

“Hmm, okay…” Aunt May says quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

“No, Peter, not those forks and knives. Get the better ones from over there – the second cupboard, top shelf,” Aunt May instructs.

Peter peers at her skeptically from the kitchen table, holding three sets of perfectly competent cutlery. “Literally the only difference in the fancy ones is that there’s a groove on the handles.”

“Don’t question me right now, it’s almost three,” Aunt May says, her gaze squarely on the pot of gravy on the stove. Despite Peter’s assurance that Tony’s not a fussy eater expecting five-star meals, she’s been stressing out over the cooking.

For her sake (and to avoid her wrath), Peter stops arguing and fetches the other forks and knives.

Tony has great timing – the second after Peter sets down the last knife, the intercom goes off. Peter buzzes Tony in.

“There’s nothing on my clothes, right?” Aunt May asks. She turns herself around to display the blue blouse and knee-length skirt combo.

“You’re good,” Peter says.

Even if Tony wasn’t coming, she’d have made the effort to dress a step above casual for this meal. Uncle Ben was also the type who got dressy. While Peter considered it pointless, he knew he’d get criticism for staying in his hoodie which is why he’s now wearing a grey dress shirt and dark jeans. 

Peter and Aunt May scurry around for the next minute, making sure the kitchen’s presentable and everything they need is on the table.

When Tony knocks on the door, Peter goes to get it, but Aunt May says, “Wait wait wait!” She’s gesturing for him to taste the gravy for the thousandth time. Peter rushes over and licks the spoon his aunt’s holding out.

“Not too salty is it?” she asks with concern.

“Tastes like gravy, it’s fine,” Peter says.

Aunt May isn’t satisfied. “I think it’s too salty,” she concludes and grabs the nearby container of flour and a tablespoon.

Peter heads back to the entrance and opens the door.

It hits him, how surreal it is to see Tony at the apartment, and for a holiday celebration, no less. He’s only stepped into the Parker home once. That was when he was recruiting Peter. Visits from him aren’t a common occurrence whatsoever.

“How’s it going, kid?” Tony asks. He’s looking fresh, as always.

“Good! Come in,” Peter says.

“One question though,” Tony says conspiratorially. He takes Peter’s elbow and pulls him in. “There’s no meatloaf, hopefully? It’s not a culinary experience I want to relive.” The whisper is so low, Peter barely hears him.

Peter shakes his head in reply while stifling a laugh.

Tony’s eyes light up a moment, relieved by the answer, then he focuses down to an object in his arms. “I brought what I promised,” Tony says, holding up a square, unmarked box. “Open it up.”

As Tony gets comfortable, taking off his coat and straightening out his suit jacket, he greets May and says the food looks amazing. Meanwhile, Peter tugs the box open on the counter.

“Oh, awesome. Look, May -- Tony brought pumpkin pie,” Peter says, tipping the box so she could see.

“Looks delicious. Thanks for bringing it over. Where did you buy it from?” May pauses for the briefest moment, letting the ribbing get noticed. “Or did you make it?”

If Peter knew Tony couldn’t take heat like this, he’d have been mortified. Instead, he grins, as is Tony. 

“You’ve got an edge. I like it,” Tony says.

“There’s no logo on the box…” Peter says, flipping the lid over to double check.

“I’ll call it a loose team effort between me, my wife, and her aunt Elsie, who’s a baker.”

“He probably put the whipped cream on,” Peter says to May, pleased to join in on the teasing.

“Okay, you’re underselling me,” Tony retorts. “I put the whipped cream on and I put in the fridge to cool.”

May shakes her head, laughing. It impresses Peter endlessly, how charming Tony can be. How is he as self-deprecating as he is self-assured?

Aunt May finally takes the gravy off the stove and pours it into a serving bowl on the table. Tony just stands nearby, watching. Peter makes his way over to his seat, the one against the length of the table. May always takes the spot at the end, to Peter’s left.

“So are you having two dinners today?” May asks Tony. “Here and at home?”

“Yep, my waistline is not gonna like it, but I don’t care,” Tony says. “Thanks for inviting me over, by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” May says. “It’s nice to have guests.”

“Am I good to sit here?” Tony asks, pointing below him.

“Yep,” Peter says. 

“Actually, I’d like to sit there,” May says.

Peter realizes what he had done – he gave Tony permission to take Uncle Ben’s spot. The arrangement is the aunt and uncle face each other, May to the left of Peter, Ben to the right. That’s how it’s been for every single meal. But Peter should’ve known that with another person, May wouldn’t want them in Ben’s chair. Feeling awkward, Peter looks down at his plate.

Tony settles down at the other end of the table.

It’s another surreal moment for Peter. Tony looks so out of place here, his thousand-dollar shoes pressed to linoleum flooring and a designer-brand jacket grazing a table found at a yard sale. It’s not only that –- it’s the contrast between him and the man who was last sitting with them for Thanksgiving. How could Aunt May ever see him as a paternal figure when he’s so unlike Ben?

Peter glances over to her. She’s eyeing Tony quite intensely too, making him suspect she has the similar thoughts going through her head.

Tony takes no notice of their stares. He’s been digging around for his phone and setting it to silent mode.

May takes the bowl of stuffing, scoops up her portion, and gives it to Peter. It starts the assembly line of serving and passing.

“So Peter’s doing really well with his combat training,” Tony says as he waits for the carrots to come along.

“Is he?”

“Yep. I can send you the recordings we have of him,” Tony says. “You’d be impressed.”

Aunt May looks to Peter. “Do they record you to track your progress?”

Peter nods. “And so I can see my technique from an outsider point of view.”

“It’s also there to gather all the data I can for redesigns of his suit,” Tony adds.

“Sounds neat,” Aunt May says. “Recordings would be interesting to see.”

“I’ll send some files to Pete, and he can show you,” Tony says. He peers down at Peter’s plate. “Kid, that looks like a stew with the amount of gravy you put on there.”

“Gravy tastes really good,” Peter says.

Aunt May sighs at him. “You’d have it like a beverage, if you could.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Peter states.

All the serving dishes have been dug into. Untouched, is the turkey in the middle of the table. Tony is quiet, waiting for a cue from May.

“So, um, at risk of making things awkward…” Aunt May says, folding up her hands. “We’ve never been particularly religious with our Thanksgiving traditions. But we’re open to saying a prayer if that goes with what you believe.”

Tony chuckles, probably thinking he’d burn to a crisp in a church. “That’s really considerate of you, but I don’t pray either. I’m used to going around the table, everyone mentioning something they’re thankful for. Pretty simple.”

“Yeah, that’s how we do it to,” Peter says, pleased they’ve got this in common. “It’s so corny though.”

“I can take the lead,” Aunt May says.

“Don’t go overboard,” Peter mumbles.

Aunt May takes Peter’s right hand. It’s what they do while they say their thanks. Another dose of awkwardness comes in now that Peter has to judge if it’s strange to reach for Tony.

Tony, able to smooth out all uncomfortable social situations, makes the decision for him. He takes Peter’s left hand. Peter doesn’t know what to think of this.

Tony’s knuckles are thick and dry. Peter notices just because clasped around his right hand, are his aunt’s soft, dainty fingers.

May bows her head. “I’m thankful for this food, that there’s so much of it available to us in the part of the world. I’m thankful for the heroes who’ve protected everyone from harm, especially my nephew and his friend Tony.” Aunt May looks up. “There. Not corny.”

“Pretty corny,” Peter says.

May ignores him. “Tony, did you want to go next?”

Instead of looking downward, Tony looks up to the ceiling. “I’m thankful for my friends, thankful for my wife… I’m thankful for being invited here, a home that’s cozy and welcoming.”

Okay, corniness levels weren’t as high on that one since Tony’s coolness negates it somewhat.

All eyes are on Peter now.


	3. Chapter 3

“Your turn, Pete. Bring it,” Tony says.

“It’s only fair you do this too,” May says.

Peter takes a breath. “Alright…” he begins, now feeling like he’s pinned to the table by the hands clasped around his fingers. “I’m thankful for… everything. Except Thanos. That sucked a lot.”

“Deep,” Tony murmurs.

They unlock their hands from each other.

“Deflecting with humour,” May says, totally unimpressed. “I guess I’ll let you get away with it for one more year.”

Tony jerks up in his chair. “He’s skipped on this every year?” Turning to Peter, he says, “Come on, kid, join us in our corniness.”

He’s pressuring him in that charming way of his, where his tone is impish but he’s fully expecting you to do what he says.

“Not every year,” Peter states. “I did it the first Thanksgiving we spent without Uncle Ben.”

“That’s true,” Aunt May says, looking a bit pained. “He said a genuine thank-you that one time.”

“If you did it once, you can do it again, I’d say,” Tony says, raising his eyebrows at him.

“I can’t think of anything.”

“Family and friends.”

“All this food,” May chimes in.

“The Pilgrims for giving us a reason to eat all this food,” Tony adds.

“They were European settlers,” Peter remarks.

“Yeah, what’s your point?”

“They had a nice meal with Native Americans that one time, then went around killing a thousands of them.”

“Okay, fair enough, but there’s still loads of other things to thank. Get creative, kid,” Tony says. He increases the pressure by leaning over, getting his face close. “One genuine thank-you.”

“I just want to eat. Look at the turkey! It’s calling to us,” Peter says, putting some enthusiasm in his voice in hopes it’ll spread.

“All right, I’m taking this away until you say something from the heart.” Tony snatches Peter’s fork and holds it close to his chest. He gives Peter that obnoxious smile of his, the one that reaches the corner of his eyes and has probably been described as devilishly cute by the women in his past.

This garners a laugh from May.

“Are you serious?” Peter asks Tony.

Tony places the fork back beside the plate. “Kid, why’s it so embarrassing for you to show some heart?”

“It’s only embarrassing when I have to do it like this,” Peter says helplessly. “I don’t know why.”

Tony leans toward him again. The playfulness in his eyes is gone. It’s been replaced by determination.

Peter gives in. He thumbs the edge of the table to ease his discomfort. Peering into his lap, he says, “I’m thankful for my aunt and what she does for me… I’m thankful for Tony too, for all the opportunities he gives me.”

“Yeah, buddy, that’s more like it,” Tony says.

May is nodding at him in approval. She must be impressed with Tony too for coaxing those words out of him.

Peter and Tony eye the turkey now, waiting for May to station herself at the one side of the table where there’s no seat. She’s placed the turkey there for easier access. However, her expression is puzzled.

“Tony,” she says softly. “Can I ask you something a little personal?”

Peter’s more caught off-guard than Tony. Tony peers directly at her and tilts his head. “About what?”

“Just about today.”

“Okay, hit me.”

With no animosity, Aunt May asks, “Why did you agree to have dinner with us?”

Peter goes still, curious about the answer too. The fact that Tony is at the apartment is revealing in itself, but Peter would like words to explain the action. Peter doesn’t actually know for sure what his reasons are. Could be pure pity, after all, which Peter hopes is not the case.

“Peter’s a really good kid. I like him. And I know what it’s like to not have a father around, so…” Tony says. May’s lips purse ever so slightly; Tony implied what he shouldn’t have. Luckily, he picks up on how he sounded and graciously adds, “I’m not trying to fill in for his uncle. Not at all. I know my place… I just know how Peter feels because I’ve been there too. So I’m trying to make things better for him than it was for me.”

Peter’s touched. Based on how May’s mouth curves into an appreciative smile, she feels the same. “That’s kind of you,” she says.

“I try.”

Tony turns to Peter. With those eyes on him, Peter becomes aware of how stupidly content his face must look. Embarrassed, he concentrates on the cup in front of him.

“Alright, time to carve this turkey, finally,” May says and gets up. She grabs the long knife and carving fork she had laid out earlier. Peter pushes the turkey closer to her.

Peter watches his aunt strategize where to make the first cut. She carefully sinks the fork into the space between the breast and the leg. Last year, May discovered she was a natural at carving turkey. She had done it better than Uncle Ben.

So at first, Peter’s confused when she extends the fork and knife to Tony.

“Here,” she whispers.

“You don’t know how to do it?” Tony asks.

“I do know,” May asserts. “I just think you should do it.”

Tony blinks in surprise. “Carving is for the head of the household to do. Doesn’t matter if you’re not a man.”

“I know. But as the head of the household, I’m offering this job to you.”

Tony goes still, needing to think for a second. “So long as Peter’s fine with it,” he says.

They both turn their heads to Peter, who’s in disbelief at what’s happening. He has enough sense though, to say, “How about you two do it together somehow? Both of you can hold the handle for the first cut.”

They agree to this idea. A moment later, Tony’s positioned himself behind May and he’s looking over her shoulder. May digs the knife into the first inch of the meat, then gets Tony to place his palm on top of her hand. He helps press the blade in further.

Peter’s relieved their attention is taken up by carving because he’s having trouble controlling his mouth, which is refusing to be anything but a smile. This is a sight he never thought he’d witness, nor did he know he wanted. It’s almost hurting him, watching Tony take part in this family tradition like he really is his father. He fits in perfectly.

After the first slice comes off, Tony gets back to his seat. He winks at Peter. “Now that was corny,” he mutters. “But it was nice. I never got to do the carving before… I’m glad you invited me over, kid.”

Knowing Tony feels the same way as him, Peter’s even happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I've got more one-shots coming. Irondad is my new thing.
> 
> P.S. For various reasons, the first place I'll be posting is on [my Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/ChrisKaabye), I also try to link ASAP on Tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a new Irondad & Spiderson convert and would like to make connections with others! It's a new school, I got no friends, man. I'm on Tumblr at [ChrisKaabye](http://chriskaabye.tumblr.com/), [Twitter,](https://twitter.com/chriskaabye) and the aforementioned [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/ChrisKaabye).


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